Poetry Without Limits

Machu Picchu

- -
I look down at my sky blue sneakers
on the ancient steps of Machu Picchu.
The stones pile high covering the sun
Like a dark cloud.

The river runs along the edge of the cliff
as If it were a part of a dream.
There's an energy that vibrates from the rocks to me,
Resting in my bones, whispering secrets from the past.
A past that chose a lone traveler,
The intricate ruins that once were homes
Make my heart beat like a ritual drum.

The mountain's shadow rests on my shoulders,
mist rolls in.
A city that once was a secret
becomes hidden again.

- - - Isabella Vasquez lives with her three dogs in Los Angeles, who she writes short stories for. She likes to surf and explore the world on her free time.